Unwanted Children of the Streets
by i'llbeyourcoat
Summary: AU, written for a contest. What if they'd all been runaways? or just plain old homeless? When they were children? There is a difference between surviving and living, perhaps they know it better than us all.
1. Chapter 1

Written as an entry to the contest on the Ultimate RENThead Forum. AU, basically if they'd all been homeless kids. probably not to be continued.

* * *

They ran, feeling their legs stretching out to accommodate the desired speed. They could feel each footstep as a vibration running up their legs accompanied by the reassuring sound of a solid slap against the pavement. The slight wind brushed their faces, egging them on. They were winded but clearly happy. Who cared if they were seven wayward teens, running loose in the streets of New York? Who cared if the place they were running to was no safer than where they were now? They were closer than family and Central Park was a better home than anything else any of them had experienced so far in their short lives. Roger, Collins, and Mark had lived this way for so long they didn't remember life before the park. Maureen and Benny had both escaped abusive parents, while Angel and Joanne's parents had thrown them out. They all bore the marks of their treatment.

Mark panted. The youngest of them, Mark was no athlete, and had the least endurance. He stumbled, almost falling flat on his face in the concrete, before Joanne caught his elbow. She pulled him along until he found his footing again.

"Is he gone?" Benny gasped. Even Roger, the fastest, was starting to tire after five blocks. Maureen looked back. She ducked, as a rolling pin nearly slammed her in the head.

"Nope!" She screeched happily. Angel laughed, Collins smiled. A look flit over Maureen's face for a fraction of a second, her smile slipped off, her eyes dimming. Then she shook her head, smiling, and kept running. It was a special smile Collins reserved specially for Angel. When Maureen had first joined the group she had clearly been after Collins, when Collins had clearly just wanted to be friends. When Angel joined them, that smile had haunted Maureen for weeks. Now she was older, though any more mature was not for anyone to say. She was happy to be friends now, and even happier to notice that Collins had his own smile just for her as well.

"You know," Roger commented. "You'd think he'd give up after this long. It was only a bottle of soda…and fourteen bags of- WHOA!" The others skidded to a stop around the spot where Roger lay sprawled on the ground. Roger blinked twice, stunned, and sat up.

"What- oh…" Roger asked, seeming at first to wonder what he'd tripped over, before noticing that his query was at his feet.

A girl, maybe a year younger than Angel but older than Mark, lay curled in a ball on the pavement. She was shaking slightly, a puddle dark brown, nearly black, hair fanned around her. They stared at her a moment, unsure what to make of this alien creature: someone outside their group. Angel stared at her intently, unblinking. His mouth moved slightly, forming words not even Collins, a few inches away from him, could hear. His eyes widened and he grinned, a happy, unbelieving grin.

"Mimi…?" He breathed. The girl glanced up, her face peering cautiously through her curtain of hair. The girl gasped.

"Angel Chica! I thought- I thought- But you were- and he was- And- Caught you- and your FATHER! He must have found you trying on-," Angel paled, and quick as anything, clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I'm alright," He told her, then, in a tone so soft Mimi could barley hear him, let alone see his lips move he whispered. "They don't know, let's keep it like that." Mimi nodded uncertainly. Angel let loose a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"Mimi, What are you doing here?" He asked in an audible tone. Mimi flushed, her bronze skin turning a rosy sort of color.

"I sort of…ran away." She said the last word in a whisper. She bit her lip nervously. "I'm sorry Angel chica-um-o." She struggled with the last part, her lips unused to forming the last vowel. "But I couldn't stand it!"

"You're not going back are you?" Mimi blinked startled by this reaction. She'd expected Angle to order her to march right back home.

"But," She felt so childish asking the question. "Where would I go?"

"You'd stay with us of course." Angel replied without thinking. He slapped his forehead. "Oh, duh! Meems, these are my friends."

He went around introducing them. Benny, with his three-inch afro (his head had been shaved bald when the gang found him) had a scar in one eyebrow, courtesy of his father; he was the brawn of the group. Strong, with an unpredictable temper, the others often had to restrain him for the frequent occasions that someone would jab at the group. The years with his father had toughened him; he did not know his own strength. This was not the best combination of temper, but he was always extremely sorry afterwards which almost made up for it.

Joanne's hair had finally grown down after growing horizontally for what had seemed like ages and finally hid the slightly lighter shade of brown around her neck. Her father had tried to strangle her as an infant. Her mother had had the lowest of existents and had done nothing to prevent the suffocation of her daughter. This had demolished her in Joanne's eyes. Her mother never fought back. "If you are not willing to rescue yourself, than you don't deserve to be rescued." Joanne had tried to explain late at night. Joanne, though quiet, had some of the strongest opinions. She was worldly wise and, though she'd never been to school, was a fluent reader. She was the one who kept the group from sinking entirely into their own world of searching for food and staying together. Joanne was often taken as cold for her silence, but she had a warm personality, just nervous around strangers. Though keeping her tongue, and convincing others to do so, had gotten them out of what were potentially messy situations.

Maureen's dark hair streamed out behind her like a cape the bruises having faded long ago. Her eyes danced, and her smile sparkled. Charismatic, energetic, she kept them all sane. In a world where depression and passiveness was often easiest, she kept them on their toes. Maureen could not read or write, but she could spot if someone was alcoholic, on drugs, or even if they were dangerous, from a single glance. She always had something funny to say. On the one hand she was amusing and a pleasure to be around, on the other hand, she could be self absorbed and forgetful. Humor was her way to escape; she thought that if she just made someone laugh they could forget what she had been doing previously. She feared being alone, and when she was feeling particularly afraid, it made her clingy.

Collins' hair had grown into dread locks around his face. He was tall, with a smile sweet enough to make up for their lack of sugar. He was strong, but not as quick to anger as Benny, and he didn't show it the same way. When irritated he reacted like anyone else, but when truly angry he became absolutely silent. His eyes, usually so soft and kind, were like ice. It wasn't his words that were so terrifying, but rather his lack of them. You had no way to tell what he was thinking or planning to do. Despite this, he was rarely violent. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of it, he just chose not to. They had only seen him like that once, when some one had tried to do more than just poke insults at them. One moment he'd been watching, the next the person had fled. Maureen liked to retell the story, being the only one to remember it clearly. However, Collins always wondered if there had been some other way, and Maureen had always told him that if he hadn't acted she and Angel would probably be dead. Collins was always silent after that. Collins was the "Plan Guy" as Roger liked to say, he liked to think, Joanne called him a philosopher. He was always fun though, if not a little over protective at times.

Mark's hair remained miraculously short, despite the fact it hadn't been trimmed for years (you can't really count the time Maureen somehow got a hold of an old pair of scissors). He was the baby, and it annoyed the hell out of him. He was sweet, and loyal to a fault. He would always come back, no matter how unhappy, or upset. He loved his family, but always feared rejection. He thought that if he showed that he was upset at all, the others would leave him. So he learned to burry it, so to speak. The others loved him, and loved to coddle him. He was the one they could shield from the obscenities of the world. It gave them comfort to know that he wasn't worried about if they would all wake up together in the morning. Still, Mark tired of being the one lacking any skills. He wasn't very fast, or strong, and though he wasn't stupid by any means, he was no Joanne. His very presence gave them comfort, and hope, which was more than any words could describe.

Roger had a mop of sandy hair almost to his shoulders. Maureen liked to tease him about the way it flapped out behind him when he ran. He was the fastest. He never felt more powerful or freer than when he was running. Like Mark, Roger didn't like to talk about his feelings, but unlike Mark, he let them weigh him down. He would get angsty and moody, and generally unpleasant to be with. Then he would run. As hard and as fast as he could until the unwanted emotions seemed to melt off like a layer of ice, a bit like a grasshopper shedding it's skin. The rest of time he had a wicked sense of humor. He was a prankster, and an amazing actor…except when he was upset. Roger cared a lot more than he let on. Though he didn't remember where it came from, he was taught from and early age that not caring was macho, as so many young boys learn. Sometimes though, it shows through and everyone is pleasantly surprised. Roger was vengeful. An irritating trait, that often had amusing results.

And Mimi barley recognized Angel. Angel's hair had grown our differently than anyone expected. When she had known him, his hair was a fine curly fuzz. Now however, it had grown in black, shiny with only a slight wave to it (think play wig with no bangs). With his big eyes, long lashes, and full lips it was hard to tell his gender. Even knowing him well, Angel seemed to drift. No one, not even the rest of the gang, knew of the scars on his back, and he intended to keep it that way. Angel didn't like to dwell on his past, it was the in the past and that was where it should stay. Angel was open. He was the kindest of them, with the least temper and the most patience for people. When it came to sitting still however, it was an entirely different story. He was energetic, and generally happy, finding wonder in the simplest things. Not to mention the odd ones, they would never forget when he'd scrapped a gigantic hole in his knee trying to get to an empty soda can. Angel had an innocent domineer, but knew almost as much about the street as Maureen. The only time he gave in to his thoughts completely was when they were drifting off to sleep, where no one could see him. What he wanted most was to get off the streets, but at the same time his greatest fear was that they would be separated. Angel usually got what he wanted. Angel usually got what he wanted because what he wanted was to make everyone around him as happy as possible.

Mimi shook hands, part of the little manners she'd been taught. "You're the one who tripped over me." She noted, glancing at Roger's sneakers. Mimi had never really been good at being intimidated, and was now comfortable enough to be herself. After all, Angel seemed to love these people, and that was good enough for her. Roger blushed.

"Yeah," He said breathlessly. "I…Uh…Sorry about that." Mimi grinned.

"No problem," She told him.

"Roger!" Maureen complained. "You're squishing my potato chips!" Roger was squeezing the bag so tightly his knuckles were turning white. He released his death grip on the chips.

"Sorry." He murmured. Maureen gaped inwardly. Roger rarely apologized for anything. Mimi's eyes lit up.

"Chips?" She asked excitedly. Her stomach twisted painfully. Than she caught herself: acting like herself was one thing, but expecting hospitality from strangers was another. Just because Angel welcomed her was no reason to expect the same from others. Joanne nodded.

"We have plain potato chips, sour cream and onion, and BBQ. We can have them when we get back to the Haven." Mimi raised an eyebrow.

"The Haven is our place in The Park." Collins explained. "It's a haven for all of us."


	2. Chapter 2

The Haven stood, tall but not tall enough to attract attention to it, nestled in the trees

The Haven stood, tall but not tall enough to attract attention to it, nestled in the trees. Or on them, rather, it was based around one central tree that held most things up. Blankets and cardboard were draped, tied, glued, anything that would make them stay on the tree to form a roof. A variety of plastic crates and more cardboard lined the outside to form a kind of wall. The tree itself was gray; it's branches growing around it in more of a circle than up towards the sun. It wasn't very tall, but that was okay because it may have been spotted other wise. Some of the limbs were very low to the ground, seemingly swallowed by the structure, poking out if they were long enough. The over all affect was a mottled hut.

"Come on," They ducked under a lose blanket that served as a door.

The inside was dark, but what surprised Mimi the most was the amount of actual furniture they'd managed to acquire. They had a real couch. Given that it was old, ripped, and had a funny smell about it, it was pretty good. They had a small wooden bedside table, its varnish almost completely gone. The floor was packed dirt. Light slanted through cracks in the walls and ceiling, creating a dappled affect in the space. The same variety of plastic crates as were in the walls were sprawled across the floor, presumably to be used as chairs and more storage space. A couple had blankets wrapped completely around them, like they were trying to keep something in. It dawned on Mimi that they must have been trying to keep food cold. There were about four mattresses all pushed together and heaped with more blankets, sleeping bags, and pillows to form a kind of central bed/sleeping area. But what was most surprising were the little things: a pile of books kept near the bed – out of the way if it were to rain, a picture left half colored on the table, a beaded necklace hung near one of the cracks so it would catch the light, dried flowers hung on one of the many branches of the tree, coupons for canned soup and dried fruit held together with a rubber band, a jar in the corner full of change. Mimi gaped at all of it.

"Don't look so surprised," Angel said, smiling. "You act like you've never seen a homeless house before."

"We're not the only people who live here you know," Mark said. "There are a lot of others, we just got the best spot. " Before Mimi had time to ponder this, her stomach growled. She blushed; thinking most of New York State had probably heard that. Maureen giggled.

"We should eat the chips outside, so that the crumbs don't attract bugs." She made a face. "Do you have any idea how gross it is to wake up and find bugs all over everything?"

"Not to mention the squirrels," Roger added. "And the crows! They nearly tore this place apart."

There was a small patch off beaten dirt right outside the Haven from people coming and going. Luckily it hadn't rained so it wasn't muddy, in fact it hadn't rained in weeks and the ground was a fine gray dust, almost like sand. It was early September, just warm enough not to have to wear extra layers, which they were grateful for. The same dappled pattern as inside the tent, though this had a lot less shadows, decorated the ground. The trees still had their leaves and the Haven was off the beaten trail so they didn't have to worry about being seen. They sat in a lopsided circle with the chips in a pile in the middle. The sun made their plastic bags shine neon green and yellow and blue, like some sort of delicious gem. They would have happily devoured them then and there, if not for Joanne who insisted that they save half of them for later.

"Aww, Jo!" Maureen whined. "That means there isn't enough to go around!" This was true. Now that Mimi had joined them there were eight people and fourteen bags of chips. IF they saved half of them that meant only seven to eat now. They sat, assessing the situation. On the one hand they were hungry now, but on the other hand that didn't mean they wouldn't bee hungry later. Finally Angel sighed and smiled.

"Here Meems, you can have mine."

"No," Roger protested uncharacteristically. "You're too skinny as it is, take mine."

"Thanks," Mimi said uncertainly. Normally she would have argued but she was so hungry she didn't care. Everybody pulled out two chips from their bag and gave them to Roger so he wasn't completely starving. Though no words were spoken during the 'meal', it was far from silent. The constant sounds of crunching and chewing seemed to reverberate through out the tiny space. It sounded almost louder than it normally would because there was nothing else to listen to. Benny tossed a chip up in the air and caught it in his mouth, making them giggle. He repeated the trick twice. Collins tried to copy him, but was unsuccessful. They laughed; it was good to laugh – to remember that life didn't have to always be full of worry and danger. Collins pretended to pout.

"Aw, honey, it's okay. Nobody gets it perfect the first time." Angel comforted him. Mimi smiled. She'd forgotten his tendency to call people pet names in the few years they'd been apart. They stopped after that, not wanting to waste anything else. They put the wrappers in a black garbage bag that was hung in a tree to make it less assessable to any creature that might be interested in it, and headed back inside. Maureen flopped down on the couch and Collins sat down next to her.

"Did you bring any stuff?" Angel asked Mimi. If they were going to have an extra person in the bed they might need some extra blankets. Angel knew it was a silly question, seeing as Mimi clearly had nothing with her. Mimi shook her head. A look that was a cross between embarrassment that she couldn't contribute anything and frustration that she hadn't thought to bring anything with her arranged on her face. She bowed her head, letting her dark hair hide her face – a protective gesture.

"That's okay," Angel assured her. "I'm sure something of Maureen or Joanne's can fit you when you need it."

"HEY!" Maureen cried from her spot on the couch. "Don't go promising her my crap! No offense Mimi…"

"Mo!" Joanne slapped her arm.

"Ow! She screeched, rubbing the place where Joanne had slapped her. Joanne turned back to Mimi.

"I'm sure some of my stuff will fit you even if _some _people won't share." She shot a glare in Maureen's direction.

"Thanks," Mimi murmured.

"Oh, don't make me out to be so selfish." Maureen pouted.

"Shush, " Joanne told her. "You know you can be, even if you don't mean to be."

"I am not! I just don't want her to wear my clothes!"

"Even when she has none? Well _that's _not selfish at all."

"Don't be so sarcastic, I can hardly tell what you mean."

"Of course you can't," As the continued to bicker, Mimi slipped outside. It had gotten dark without her realizing it. The night air was cool but refreshing. Mimi shivered in the slight breeze. There were no stars, or if there were she couldn't see them, blocked out by the bright lights of the city. Even here in the deepest parts of Central Park you could still see them casting their glow on the sky. They were the only reminder of the outside world, here where it was so easy to slip into some other world entirely. The Trees were nothing but dark shapes silhouetted against the not quite black sky. They looked almost ghostly, like fingers reaching upward trying to grab something she couldn't see.

"Hey," Mimi jumped and spun. It took her a moment to recognize Roger in the dark.

"Hey,"

"It's pretty isn't it?" He asked.

"What is?"

"The sky."

" I don't know what you mean," Mimi told him. To her the sky's beauty – its natural color, its velvety blackness and shining stars were covered – smothered by the bright lights of New York. Any beauty it might have held was extinguished, leaving only an ashy gray in its place.

"Sure you do," He told her. He took a step nearer so he could see more or less exactly the same thing as she did. "The was the lights make the sky glow around the edges, the way you can stare up and up and feel almost like you're inside but never see a ceiling?"

"Oh," She said softly. She'd never thought of it like that. She shivered again. " I'm going inside."

"I'll come with you, we should probably be getting to bed anyway."

Inside was almost completely pitch black except for the few silvery shafts of light that had managed to penetrate into its depths. Maureen and Joanne had finished their argument and were already in the bed, as was Benny. Angel and Collins were on the couch, whispering as to not wake the other's up.

"Do you think there'll be enough room?" Collins asked.

"We can all squish," Angel said. "It's colder tonight."

It was an odd sensation, all eight of them on the one largish bed type thing. There was a certain balance you had to master between sharing and getting enough blanket or cuddling up to someone to stay warm. Though it had never been silent at home, here it was almost unbearably loud. Between the normal city traffic and the snores and shuffles of the others it sounded almost like the cafeteria at Mimi's old school.

But it wasn't at all like school, these kids were so generous, it wasn't normal. It was almost as if they were a completely different species of kids. At the old school people were forever pushing up against each other in the halls like they were trying to squash her or tripping people so they went sprawling on the ground. They stole everything from personal possessions and lunch money to cars and wrote offensive graffiti on lockers and walls. No, they were very different from her new friends. Or were they? They both laughed at each other's jokes even when they weren't funny, and helped each other. They both had that same chummy way of acting around each other, like they new a joke she didn't, except that now she knew the joke too. It was something she hadn't had for a long time. She'd had to go through all the little obnoxious things in the beginning of high school without Angel – her only friend – because he'd left before school started.

The noise around her seemed to fade into a pleasant hum, wrapping around her like a cocoon. She was warm, snuggled up to someone – she couldn't tell who in the dark – and the bed thing was a lot more comfortable than she'd thought it would be. She felt odd like time was passing but she was staying still. It took her until the last possible second to realize that she was falling asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Oh My God! I've been working on this FOREVER! Since the beginning of September I think...that's not to say that it's good, it's to say that I had little motivation to write it. I do kind of like how it turned out though. I never thought this would go past the first chapter, but here we are at chapter three, so we'll see where this goes. Also, I haven't actually edited this so please don't hate me for the spelling/grammer stuff that I know is in there.

I imagined Mark to be about five when this takes place

If I owned RENT it would A) still be on Broadway B) this would not be 'fan' fiction.

* * *

The pond was green - green and wet and disgusting, but strangely beautiful. A stench like sour milk or urine floated off it in great swells. The ground was wet and slightly chili under their feet, mud sticking between their toes and turning the soles of their feet brown. There was a small, gazebo-like structure consisting of a roof and two benches sticking out almost on top of the water. A large willow tree had grown horizontally, it's huge trunk wide enough to walk on comfortably, while its grooved bark gave enough traction to make sure they didn't slip. Everything was green here; well green verging on yellow now that fall was coming on. Damp green moss and pale green lichen seemed to cling to the bark for dear life. The pond was completely covered in neon green duckweed, small pieces of algae floating on the water's surface. Across the pond two dark green turtles basked in the sunlight, content to sit on their log jutting out of the water. All around them lush green foliage hung heavy on the trees, weighing down the branches so they sagged and dipped, trailing in the water and on the ground. Even the sunlight was a pale green, filtered through the leaves, making a dappled pattern on the ground. They were on the edge of the pond; there was a large gray rock behind them. Flecks of mica sparkled on it, and it rose, almost vertically, cracks and crevices running along it. They were filled with dirt, small plants and tufts of grass sprouting out feebly, reaching for the sunlight.

Benny was amusing himself by chucking smalls stones and twigs into the water and watching the duckweed spread, ripple, and close over the object. Roger soon joined him while Collins was attempting to skip stones. He was having no luck; the algae seemed to be wrecking the bounce. Maureen had dragged Joanne up into the tree and was now performing the commentary on Collins' stone skipping, or rather lack there of. Joanne rolled her eyes or laughed occasionally at her antics. Angel, with his sneakers in one hand, had begun to climb the rock. He would jam his foot into one of the cracks and use it to boost himself up to the next crack. Mimi opted to join him – as entertaining as making splashes in the water was, the prospect of getting duckweed sprayed all over her was not. Leaving her shoes with Joanne for safe keeping (as much as she like Maureen, she would just as likely throw them in the pond to see if they floated as hold onto them) she stood in front of the rock contemplating how she would do this. She decided not to think about it, and shoved her foot into one of the crevices. Her toes scrapped against the stone and grass tickled the bottoms of her foot. Her fingers scrabbled against the rock looking for a handhold. Angel, a few feet above her, turned and caught her hand, guiding it to another crack. She grinned.

"Thanks." Angel smiled back before returning to his climb. Now, with slightly less trouble, Mimi put all her weight on her arms, swinging her legs to look for a new crack. Finding one, she reached up. She repeated this cycle a few times. It got easier, she didn't have to think as much about where her hand or foot was going to go or worry about falling as much. In front of her, Angel had reached the top of the rock, which was flat. It was wide enough that any trees that might be leaning over were too far away to block the sunlight. She could see Angel sitting at the top, head tilted back to receive the sunshine, eyes closed and smiling. Behind her she heard Maureen crowing her approval, apparently Collins had finally succeeded in skipping a stone. Joanne, Mark, Roger, and Benny cheered and she could hear Angel's laugh from above her. She wanted to be up there, to see what was going on. She climbed a little faster; the stone cool under her fingers. Dirt darkened the tips of her fingernails; she'd have to clean them out when she got to the top. She reached and pulled herself up, reached and pulled herself up, reached… and gasped. She bit her lip, but a small yelp escaped her lips, attracting Angel's attention. His head appeared over the side and he grimaced.

"Oh Mimi," She gave him a little halfhearted smile. Her fingers clutched at the rock, making up for the support lost. She held her right foot away from herself, balanced on her left. A small trail of blood trickled down her foot - hot, wet, and crimson – to splash onto the ledge. The drops landed, sparkling, onto the clear shards of glass that had cut her foot in the first place. If not for the small sting on the sole of her foot, Mimi would have thought them beautiful, glittering like rubies. Angel had climbed back down to stand next to her, carefully avoiding the glass she hadn't noticed. He shook his head.

"Did you even look where you were stepping?" Mimi flushed. She should have though of that. It wasn't like it hurt that much, but it would be a pain to walk on now.

"Well come one, let's get you down." Angel was on the ground in what seemed like seconds. Mimi glanced down at him. It seemed like a lot further to fall than it had a few moments ago. A small voice in her head reminded her it couldn't be more than six or seven feet, but seeing Angel (and now the others) looking up at her from way down there… Mimi's fingers tightened even more on the cold stone. She hopped a bit to the left, away from the glass, and stopped. She hadn't thought about how she was getting up and she'd cut her foot, she would need some idea of where she was going coming down.

"Come on!" Benny called up to her. She couldn't see the wicked grin on his face. "We won't let you fall!" He spread his arms, demonstrating. This did little to calm her. Benny mentioning that she _could _fall just made her all the more sure that she would. Her hands shaking a little, she lowered herself so she was kneeling on the crack she'd been standing on. Her hands rested on the wall of rock in front of her. Now all she had to do was get her hands on this crack and swing herself down to the next one. How was she supposed to do that? She slid her hands down, reaching for it, but her arms weren't long enough. The ledge wasn't quiet wide enough to lean over. Arching her back, she made to lean forward so she could grab the ledge. It would be an odd position, bent almost double, but it was all she could think of. Her knees hurt from kneeling on them for so long and her foot still throbbed a little. Her hands burned, she'd climbed more this week – since she's found them - than she had in her entire life put together, and the calluses weren't quiet done forming on her palms. She reached, straining the muscles in her shoulder, willing them to elongate.

Then, quiet suddenly, she could reach. Her fingers grazed the ledge, and then went past it. She could see the place she'd been kneeling, the place where she'd cut her foot, the long red drips of blood, drying where they'd fallen off her foot. Something in her stomach dropped. It might have been her shoulder scrapping against stone or might have been someone from below, a boy's cry of 'No!' but suddenly she felt as if she'd woken up from a very intense dream. And now she rolling, over and over, bouncing against the rock. She didn't scream, what was the point? But she heard the others; she put her arms over her head, protecting it. She was getting dizzy, falling seemed to take a lot more time than she thought it would. In one of the brief moments when she was actually facing down, she saw Benny with his arms still outstretched and realized with a jolt that she was going to miss him by quiet a few feet. She was beginning to lose all sense of direction and closed her eyes. Bump, bump, bump. Her right shoulder stung from hitting stone so many times. Then, after one final collision, the rock seemed to decide it was tired of having her rolling down its side and she was flung away from it. For a few moments the air felt nice, cool, and almost solid, but soft like lying on a trampoline. It passed her, feeling more and more like wind instead of a trampoline. She tried to curl herself into an even tighter ball, anticipating the slightly muddy ground. But something else hit her first, catching her, pulling her closer. A pair of warm arms were cradling her softly, the way one might carry a newborn.

"Oof," The person grunted, their legs giving way. They sat down suddenly, but her momentum was slowed enough that she at least, wasn't hurt. Mimi uncurled from her ball and opened her eyes to see whose lap she was now sitting on. Roger looked slightly dazed, his arms still around her. She felt her face heat up and hoped she hadn't hurt his legs. She stood up, putting most of her weight on her uninjured foot more out of a desire not to get dirt in it than out of pain.

"Sorry," She muttered. He glanced up at her; still looking frazzled, and smiled.

" 'S fine," He assured her before getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off his hands. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah,"

"No you're not, you're bleeding." Joanne stated.

"It's just a cut." It was too, even being as overly dramatic as she was, Mimi knew it was just a cut.

"We should get it wrapped up," Angel said, looking relieved. "Can you walk?" Mimi looked at her.

"Of course," She said, a little insulted, and took a few steps forward to prove her point. "It's just a cut." She repeated, "What's the big deal?"

"Newbie," Maureen muttered. "The big deal is that if your little cut gets infected we might as well just chop off your foot! And now we have to use some of the band-aids that took us forever just to stea- I mean find." Mimi balked.

"You're exaggerating," She said skeptically.

"No I'm not," Maureen pouted.

"Yes, you are." Angel said, "But, Mimi, it _could _be really bad if it gets infected."

"Oh…"

"So do you need help -" Benny started, looking hopeful.

"No." Mimi repeated forcefully, drowning out Roger saying the same thing.

They began the hike back to The Haven in silence, but it didn't last long. Maureen surprised Collins by jumping on his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. He yelled in surprise and she laughed. Mark jumped on top of her and Collins groaned, trying to keep his balance and keep Mark and Maureen from falling off at the same time. Benny came over to relieve Collins of his load by plucking Mark off of him, and dumping him onto his shoulders. Mark seemed happy enough to ride up there, burying his hands in Benny's thick curly hair, trying to find something to hold onto. Benny was taller than Collins by about two inches and Mark claimed he could see farther that way. Angel came to walk behind Benny. That way, should Mark fall, he could catch him. Halfway up the hill Joanne called a halt. Maureen slid off Collins back unwillingly, and Mark fell back onto Angel. He grunted and set Mark on his feet.

"Look," Joanne said to Mimi, the others looking on. She was pointed to more pieces of broken glass. "What do you notice?"

"Um, I shouldn't step on it?" Mimi asked, not sure what Joanne was getting at. Joanne shook her head.

"Look at the shapes of the pieces," She said, picking up a sparkling green bit. "It's squared off, kind of like a cube." She passed it to Mimi who took it nervously.

"It won't cut you right off." She continued, picking up another piece and putting it on the pavement away from the others. She placed her palm over it and pressed down. Mimi cringed, but Joanne lifted up her hand to show only the impression of the piece. Mimi grinned and moved to put her hand over the other shards of glass, but Joanne caught her wrist.

"No," She said, "Look closely. There are those tiny, tiny pieces. Those ones are the worst. You can barley see them so you don't notice them, then when you step on them you have to pick them out." Mimi shuddered, withdrawing her hand. That had to be like a really bad splinter.

They continued on for another couple hundred feet when Joanne stopped them again. She showed Mimi how these shards were the kind that had sliced up her foot. They cut the most, but at least you didn't have to pick them out. Joanne then carefully gathered up the biggest pieces.

"You never know when they might come in handy." She said. "Roger, you've still got that lighter?" Roger grinned, his eyes flashing.

"Of course."

"We'll use that to sterilize them."

People watched them a little strangely as they continued up the hill, avoiding them like they had some contagious disease. This only made Maureen grin. She skipped, and spun in a circle, her head tilted back to catch the last couple rays of sun. A small girl with dark pigtails stared at her, before her mother tugged her away.

"Dance with me!" Maureen commanded Joanne, grabbing her hands.

"No." Joanne told her firmly, a smirk crossing her lips.

"Mimi?"

"No, sorry," Maureen shrugged, continuing her small twirling dance. It was Angel, grinning and laughing, who first joined her. He just kind of jumped around, clapping his hands, but it was dancing enough. Mark giggled and began to bounce around in circles with them.

"All right!" Maureen cried, triumphant. Angel spun Mark in a circle before Maureen picked him up, swinging him around. Mark shrieked his joy, clinging to Maureen for dear life.

"Put him down," Roger said, sighing. "You're going to get him killed!"

"I will not," Maureen said, sticking out her tongue at him, but depositing Mark onto Roger's back anyway. Mark pouted, sad that their dance party was over, but Roger managed to entertain him by running up and down for a little bit and bouncing. Maureen grabbed Mimi's shoulder.

"I already told you: I'm not dancing."

"No, look at that guy." She pointed to a man lounging on a bench, his arms slung over the back, wearing a hoodie sweatshirt. He looked to be in his mid thirties.

"What about him?" Mimi asked, wrinkling her nose. "Don't tell me you think he's cute?"

"No! He's a drug dealer." Maureen hissed into her ear.

"What? How can you tell?" Mimi asked, slightly appalled.

"Look at him closely, he's too thin for his skin, and too pale." Mimi stared at him for a long moment. Many of the wrinkles on his face were due to the fact that his skin hung over his head loosely, like blanket had been draped over it. If she looked close enough, she could see that the man was really in his early twenties – ten or more years younger than she'd originally thought him. The pale part was easy enough to spot, though it just made him look sickly. As she stared she noticed his eyes were rather blood-shot, and his nails were dirty – ragged and yellow.

"Still…he could just be a bum!" Mimi said. Maureen shook her head, her curly hair bouncing.

"Nope, there's his look out." She showed her the man stationed near the bottom of the hill – near the road.

"Weird…" Mimi didn't quiet know what else to say. What was there to say? "Let's go," She said, trying not to sound like she was begging, as she pulled on Maureen's sleeve. Maureen nodded and dashed up the hill to catch up with their friends

When they reached the Haven, Angel sat Mimi down on the couch with her foot up on his lap. The blood on her foot had congealed and dried already, but Angel insisted. Roger sat on one of the empty milk carton and watched on, his lips pursed. Benny had gone with Maureen to look for more useful things, which was their way of saying that they were going to pickpocket. Mimi gawked when she first heard this, but the more she thought about it the more it made sense.

"We try not to beg," Collins had told her, "Hurts the pride too much, but if we have Mark with us we can usually bring in about six bucks. We just don't want him to grow up that way, so we try not to – he doesn't know – and don't go telling him either."

"We'll teach you how to do that too," Maureen had said. Mimi had frowned, but said nothing.

Now, Joanne was with Mark outside, trying to teach him about subtraction. It was hard to tell if she was making any headway because the subtle difference between distracted-happy and learning-happy was difficult to decipher. Collins was on the other side of the Haven, carefully using Roger's lighter to sterilize the glass.

"Do you really have to do this?" Mimi whined, as Angel dotted a precious band-aid with anti-septic cream.

"We already went over this," Angel said calmly, ignoring Mimi's yelp as the cream stung her foot. Roger offered her a hand to squeeze, but she declined. He just shrugged and continued to stare. Angel finished and stood up.

"You really should be more careful next time. There are tricks to just about everything."

"I know, Joanne was telling me…Maureen too."

"Well listen to them, they know a lot – though it's hard to tell with Maureen." Roger laughed, picking up the milk carton and walking out of the Haven. They heard Mark's delighted yell as Roger relieved him off his lessons, and the two headed off to one of the many playgrounds that dotted the park. Angel raced after them, pulling Joanne up as she did. Mimi stayed in the doorway, gazing after them. Collins finished up the glass and came to stand next to her.

"How do you do this, every day, and still are so…" Mimi didn't know how to finish the question. Collins stared after them, his eyes taking on a distant quality.

"I don't know…you just have to take it one day at a time, I guess. No Day But Today."

* * *

And there you have it! Reviews would make me _really _happy...! Even if it's to say 'holy crap - do you have no life to be writing this thing?' that would be great!


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